Paint
by mjames577
Summary: 20 years old Raymond McBride suffers hallucinations by seeing characters from his favourite TV cartoon show in hospital whilst trying to recover from a gun attack. He starts to write stories that feature those characters in the animated world and he can also remember of how his detective story goes as well as his troubled life.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE:This, for the first time, is my first fanfic featuring the most adored cartoon, The Raccoons. I may not have a good job to keep the characters in-character though, if you please forgive me.

I have been a fan of the show, the Raccoons, for quite a while now. It is one of my favourite cartoons of all the time, I'm not really a fan of other cartoons especially with cartoons that have a violent nature. I also do like TV shows that are a cult classic and one of them, which has inspired me to write a story, is _'The_ _Singing Detective' _by Dennis Potter_, _the 1986 BBC mini-series, starring Michael Gambon. I've first seen the show just after its 25th anniversary and I just enjoy every moment of this show except for a few bits. I have decided to make stories about a fictional character named Raymond Stephen McBride (R. S. McBride), who lives in the troubled country of Northern Ireland, United Kingdom. He likes to write detective stories but he likes to write stories that features characters from his favourite cartoon, which is the Raccoons, of course. It was only when he suffers hallucinations of these characters during his time in hospital after being shot four times by a masked gunman nearby to his home. He also remembers of how his detective stories is being run as well as looking back at his troubled times as a nationalist youth.

This story won't feature the characters from the Raccoons all of the time and this story will be featured in four different worlds, Raymond's time in hospital, Raymond's detective story (which doesn't feature any characters from the Raccoons), Raymond's troubled time as a youth and the animated world (that will feature the characters from the Raccoons).

**WARNING:** This story will contain a little use of strong language and a couple of violent scenes from the start (be aware of that) and it will contain some upsetting scenes (so better have a tissue handy). This story will not be suitable for children and some teenagers. It is recommended for mature and sensible audiences.

In the wake of a tragic event that occurred in Denver, Colorado, one or two bits of this chapter have been edited. I have pledged sympathy to those who lost their innocent, loved ones who were supposed to enjoy a popular movie that involves a character that they are a fan of. Whilst I am making this story as well as other stories in the near future, the amount of use of any sort of gun has been shortened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the rights to the Raccoons or any of the characters from the show. They belong to Kevin Gillis. Any bands, artists, songs, albums, famous figures (in sport, entertainment and politics) and real people being mentioned in this story also do not belong to me, they belong to the property of their respective owners. They will not appear in this story, though. Any characters in this fanfic who are not from the Raccoons and who are not real people belong to me. They can only be used with my permission. Any resemblance of characters to real people, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional.

**Paint**

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

Darkness is where we start off with. The sky was complete in black colour. No brightness, no joy, just complete darkness. But the darkness is about to be affected by the bright, tangy and even a jambalaya kind of colour. Orange lights shine just below the sky. It was assisted by the standing grey and slightly dull poles that can help keep the lights shine on throughout the dark night.

Down below the sky, lies the modest suburban setting from house connected to another house and a pavement connected to another pavement. One or two houses hang out three traditional colours of an important, memorable flag. The colours were green, white and orange. For you see, the people who live here support a country that associates with the flag.

Head down below to the ground, and you can possibly tell that no one is around. For this is night-time. The perfect time to slow down for the night and lie down on our soft, gentle pillows on our own heads. Silence will come and go. However, someone was up and go. A man is walking on the near wet, groggy, damp pavement on a residential street. He only walks quietly and smoothly through the quiet, gentle night. As he kept on walking, another noise was behind him. It was patchy at first, but soon it started to increase. Assisting that noise was another noise. It was two noises at once, making it very noisy indeed. The first of it was music and the second of it was a car quite slowly driving by.

Inside the car was a mixture of fever and joy. Four girls were inside the car singing some sort of pop song they know about very well. Also singing was the voice of the music itself. It was from a music tape to what they are playing in the car. The cover of a tape which was inside the box features five girls in fancy, attractive uniforms which is accompanied by five letters making out the word, spice.

Distracted by the noise behind him, he turned around and expect that something worse is heading straight for him. He quietly says to the noise, "Piss off!". He then hides in a dark alleyway just in time before the light from the car was at his own position. The girls in the car didn't seem to notice the man as they were enjoying and singing their own girlish song and soon the noise from what the man was hearing was winding down.

As the noise was gone, he simply decided to come out from the dark alleyway and then enter into the light of a lamppost nearby. He was apparently glad that he was all on his own. He didn't seem to want anybody. However, what he doesn't know of, as he was going to go back to his own route, someone was there in the dark alleyway. It slowly moved forward as the man was out of its own sight. That person had something in its hands. The person began to raise it up a little bit as that person walked on.

Meanwhile, the man who was wearing a black-clothed, smart-looking suit as well as wearing grey trousers and black shoes, seems to be quite pleased with himself that the girls did not spot him. Only the person holding something did indeed spot him. This man was holding out a weapon. He was a dangerous person indeed. He had a black hood that covers the whole of his head except for his eyes and mouth. He was also wearing a shirt that was filled with propaganda with images of crowns and flags all over it, a pair of jeans and trainers.

He appeared into the light behind the smart-dressed man. Then, another noise occurred. It was the sound of a weapon that was about to be used by the dangerous man. With one of his fingers being put into its position, he was ready to do something to the smart-looking man. The smart-looking man turned around quickly to see the man with the hood for at least one second. Then, the inevitable happened!

The man with the hood used his weapon to do all of the work for him. It stunned the smart-looking man. It caused him to fall down on the hard, damp, groggy ground of the pavement. He landed by the side of the head that also battered him. He felt his body parts that were already hurt when it happened.

The man with the hood decides to run away from the victim thinking that he may have done what he did was best. For the victim, meanwhile, he stood dazed and still. Not moving he was, the only thing he can do is to hear the sounds of a siren, people moving about and even a female voice crying out his name loudly.

"Raymond! Raymond!"

**END CHAPTER 1**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Next chapter marks the beginning of Raymond's detective story. You're in for a big mystery!


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this chapter that I write in marks the start of Raymond's detective story. Raymond uses his name for short as Ray and is unlike him. For you see, this detective story is a bit like the one being featured on the TV mini-series, _The Singing Detective_. Although a few bits that hasn't been featured are, in fact, made up. This is set somewhere in the United Kingdom, in the 1970's. It starts off a bit like the first chapter but in a different and also in a more disturbing sequence. The Raccoons won't be featured in this chapter but it will be in another chapter that is yet to come.

DISCLAIMER: As being mentioned in the first chapter, I do not own the rights to the Raccoons or any characters from the show and any other stuff that can matter in this story.

**Chapter Two: Red Paint**

On a dark, black night, this time, it is in a different setting, the lights shining below the sky were in a different colour. It was white as a star which wanted to twinkle in the night sky. Below the lights is a grim, murky, grizzly suburban setting. Not many people wander around dark, deserted and noiseless street. Some stores are shut up through the places for entertainment and refreshment remained open up until the middle of the night.

These kind of places have noise but there was a noise in the outdoor world. It was the sound of music but only with one instrument by one poor, homeless and ragged-looking man He sat down on the ground and played his own harmonica hoping to attract a low-key audience and just hoping that he can have some money as a reward by having his hat on the ground so that someone can give him money for his talent.

A few minutes as he played, a man wearing a grey-coloured suit with other black overalls (as well as a hat) appeared out of nowhere. He heard the sound of music just a corner away and decided to see the poor man play his own music. The music itself has a nice, charming and even slow-moving tune to keep a person amused.

The man with a grey suit approached to the poor man and the poor man looked at the smart-looking gentleman. He was still playing with his own harmonica to keep himself going. It wasn't too long until the smart-looking man showed the poor man a shiny-looking silver coin. Then, the smart gentleman placed his own thumb on his hand which has the silver coin over the thumb and then flipped the coin up into the air. It made a gentle kind of chink as it happened and the coin landed in the middle of the poor man's hat inside.

The poor man agreed to his own mind and played on with his harmonica. He, this time, played a jolly, happy-go-lucky tune and he sort of smiled as he blew his harmonica. The smart gentleman walked away from the poor man only by a couple of metres and stopped. He then turned around by his own left and looked at the poor man again. He decided to go back to the poor man and have a good look at him again. The poor man, who was still playing, looked at the smart gentleman. He was sort of betting that he can receive more money. However, he wasn't. It wasn't too long until the smart gentleman spoke to the music maker.

"You nicked my money, haven't you?" he asked.

The poor man almost seemed to stop playing his musical instrument and then thought he should reply back to the smart gentleman. He spoke in a gruff, low and barely hoarse voice. "What?"

"I said you have nicked my own money," answered the smart gentleman. "Now I shall nick you!"

Just after saying so, he took something out of his own suit. He showed the poor man something that is shiny like the silver coin. In fact, this shiny thing is quite threatening to use and it is not attractive as the silver coin is. This thing that the smart-looking man is showing to him is a terrifying, sharp-pointed knife. He give the man a cross-looking, fierce stare. The poor man soon has a frozen, silent and great sense of fear that is upon him. He didn't look at the dangerous-looking weapon that this smart man is showing to him.

Then, even if the poor man finally knows it, the smart man edged forward to the poor man and then with this hand that holds the knife, he flung it back before he then attacked the poor man with the knife that does all the work for him. The last thing that can be actually heard from the poor man was the undisputed, cackled scream for his own life. After the smart-looking man has done his duty , he got his silver coin back from the poor man's hat and then walked away into the deep darkness.

The poor man never lived to play another tune of his own harmonica again. Nothing that is fast, nothing that is slow. Blood of his own life had been spilled by the smart man's duty. It flowed on the ground below, moving slowly before stopping by half a metre away from the body of the poor man. It is almost like spilling a small tin of red paint onto the floor from a clumsy, fiddly painter who can't seem to control himself.

Just minutes later, another smart-looking man was walking into the dark street. He was wearing black clothing from the top to bottom and he then talks to you as a narrator.

"When I walk along this kind of street, it makes me think of paint. You see, paint is what I see. With a colour that I notice, for example, the sky would be painted in a nothing-to-do-about-it colour and then have stars to be shown in the background. It would give off a glittering effect to night sky. The most important thing about painting night skies is the moon. The moon would help a glow of pure white cream that can spread across your poor and unattractive face. I don't need cream anyway."

He stands by the white light of a lamppost and says. "Don't tell me to introduce myself. Ray is the name and searching is my game. I like my clothing to be in black, so that the others won't have to notice about the way I wear. Not even if a button was loose from my suit, they might not notice it. As I mention searching, I usually potter around these dismal, lack, yawning streets of my home town here in Britain. You'll never know what to expect especially what lurks around, comes around."

Ray spots something ahead and said. "Just look at that. What I can see is some sort of person being wrapped up in a disgusting, ragged, dusty old blanket all over himself, thinking this is the best way to keep himself warm at night. Not like a hedgehog wrapped itself around in a spiky, painful ball."

Ray walks closer to it and notices something that is leaking on the ground.

"Look at the ground down below. I can notice something that is spilling out of the man's goodness of his heart. I do believe it's blood. I wonder why he died? Of course, we should not jump to the wrong conclusion. Am I right? After all, this is not a pretty picture I am seeing here. This is not welcoming for those who like to paint."

Ray walks away from the dead man and decides to crack open a new case. He may be a detective but he also has another job he does. He then arrives at his own favourite place to chill out, relax and even admire on the refreshments surrounding the use of alcohol and food but not forgetting his favourite sound, music. 'That's what makes the world go round' – the tag line for Singers (the dinner/music club).

"I like to go down, deep into the undergrowth of secret and wonder," said Ray. "Not to mention going down into a revolting sewer just likes a rat does. Sometimes, a rat usually gets himself wet by the drops of rain that is dripping down from the top or even have his own little feet get squished on the oily, filthy and the muddy stuff of sewage. Then, in all of a sudden, you see light. A light that is breaking out from the darkness. Move on and you will no longer be surrounded in pure darkness."

**END CHAPTER TWO**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The next chapter will mark the start of Raymond McBride's time in hospital after having poor Raymond getting shot by a masked gunman. The detective story lingers on for a little while.


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is set mostly in a hospital. There may be a few funny but yet upsetting scenes in the background. An introduction to new characters in hospital including the patients (all are male). This chapter might be long but not so much. Be in for a little shock or two!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to the Raccoons or any of the characters from the show. I also do not own any stuff that is being mentioned briefly whilst in conversation. The characters that are made up, mostly in the hospital sequences, are the property from myself. So please do not use those characters without my permission...or else!

**Chapter Three: Wet Paint**

Sunday 13th October 1996. A man is lying down on a bed. He can actually feel that the bed is being moved by something. His eyes are slightly open. Black colour turning into grey colour and grey turning into white and white turning into bright yellow. He can hear the clattering, rattling noise of his bed moving with him. In fact, he was on a hospital trolley. It was being carried by four doctors and nurses (two male doctors and two female nurses). His eyes are now fully opened. He felt confused, silent and almost as if he was frozen.

One of the nurses was telling a doctor about him and his details. The man's name is Raymond Stephen McBride. Aged twenty years old and his birth date was somewhere in early February. He had black, short hair and his eyes are blue as the clear sky. He has, however, a scar that is long as eight centimetres. He had this scar just after the shooting incident. He wishes he can speak but he can't. It seems that his voice was on mute. Raymond can slightly move to the left and can see the wall of clear white paint. He can just see a sign being put up saying 'Wet Paint'. He had an uneasy feeling on his open mind.

Raymond, is not the only one to get himself recovered, in fact, others (male patients) may need to get recovered too. Not all, unfortunately. These patients just lie on their beds feeling disputed, sick, bored, impertinent but most of the time they just suffer, do nothing and even have a chance to get some attention from the social, caring and the demanding nurses in charge.

A male patient was violently shaking in his own bed. He's not in good health. He suffered severe illnesses during his time and mostly because he was depressed. A nurse with dark brown hair and even with a serious-looking face was carrying a tea trolley with her. It was filled with cups, saucers, cutlery and even large teapots. She took from the trolley, a plate of cream crackers with sliced mature cheddar. Also on the plate, was a knife and a napkin.

"Teatime, Mr McKenna," the nurse said as she placed his meal on his table by the side of the bed. The male patient was quite unresponsive due to his illness. So, the nurse gently lifted him up properly and says. "Teatime, come on."

Other male patients won't take any notice of what was happening except for one who thinks nothing but to complain to himself sometimes. The nurse placed down the plastic cup of milk on his table. She placed the napkin around Mr McKenna's neck and spoke to him.

"Dear dear, not getting a good night's sleep, are you?"

Mr McKenna just whimpered, he can't speak that well. The nurse hold out the plastic cup of milk for him to reach out. He grabbed it almost by force but the nurse who is still holding out says to him.

"Let's not try to spill it, shall we? After all, you should never cry over spilled milk, can you?"

As he tries to be rampant enough to drink his milk, still shaking as you can tell, the male patient who has a bald head and with a gruff-looking face, folded his arms and looked at another patient on his left hand side, who is the youngest of the male patients, aged 24 (roughly), in this hospital but it wouldn't be for too long.

"Are you going to look at that trolley?" he asked. "Just look at it, Ronnie. Stopped again as if it was on a journey from one bus stop to another. What has it stopped for? Why has it stopped? So that shaking, gargling bugger who's down there, waiting to have his drink spilled down all over his clothes. Ha! He never will drink a nice cup of tea again filled with a strong, slight taste of strong caffeine. Won't it, my boy?"

Ronnie didn't hear him because he was reading some sort of book that he didn't much admire as he was reading. The talking patient was being impatient with Ronnie.

"Won't it?" he said, loudly.

Ronnie stops reading and hesitated. "What's wrong, Mr Fall?"

"The milk that Mr McKenna is drinking."

"Oh yeah," thought Ronnie. "He never drinks tea."

Meanwhile, Raymond, who is taken out of the emergency room after the doctors and nurses had taken the bullets out of his body and having his wounds stitched up and bandaged, is being sat down on a wheelchair. The wheelchair is then pulled by a black-coloured porter, he was listening to music on his personal CD player. Raymond was wearing his underwear only, however, he was covered by a white cloak all over his body. Raymond was allowing his mind speak to him as he memorises his detective story.

'No sir. The way those creatures all around you would tickle, nibble and even wind you up would damage your own nerves.' "Full stop, new paragraph," he said, quietly to himself. 'There is, however, one creature that you like to admit.' "Full stop." 'A rat knows where its tail is. But when a simple, curious man named Barrister Filling, I'll say Barris for short, enters the surroundings of the Singers club, he might not always know the difference of his own tail nor his own elbow.'

Barris went through the chain curtains and looked around the club and sees a bar-tender polishing a glass. It seems that no one is in the club tonight but Barris nor the bartender don't mind if no one is present as this time. He can also hear the sound of a double bass being flicked and being bounced by a musician inside one of the rooms. He looked at the bartender and cleared his throat to order a drink. The bartender turned around and greeted him.

"Evening, sir. What's your poison? What will it be? Aah!"

It was only Raymond who had his mind doing it as he felt one of his arms struck him after being shot at. It had distracted his story.

"Oh, God! That smarts!" said Raymond. "Try again, Raymond. Try again. You must concentrate. Concentrate."

The bartender starts again. "Evening, sir. What's your poison? What will it be?"

"Well, I like to have company for a start," said Barris.

"Well, it's early yet, sir. But you're the first, so you will have to pick, won't you?"

"Me to pick what?"

"The apples on the barrel, sir," replied the bartender. As he said so and with Barris not noticing, he pressed a little silent buzzer underneath the table. "What do you drink, sir?"

"Scotch and soda, please," demanded Barris.

"That's your stuff, eh? And for the young lady?"

Barris felt puzzled as the bartender said so. "What?"

The bartender showed him where the young lady was. She was sitting on a stool wearing some sort of dress. It was for a female sailor to dress up like that. She has brown hair and has caused a stir on Barris when she is wearing stockings.

"Hello, sugar," she greeted.

"Ah, well err...hello yourself, sugar," responded Barris. "Er, what would you like?"

"Champagne, toots."

"Ah, yes, of course," said Barris to her and also to the bartender as he turned.

Raymond had himself saying, "Sugar, Toots." He had now arrived with the porter to one of the wards in the hospital. It was a ward for men. The porter said to two patients sitting on a table having their tea.

"Hey, lucky time for a tea party, eh?"

All the male patients looked and stared at Raymond. The one thing they noticed about him, although Raymond didn't notice this yet, was because of his scar on the right-hand side of his face. The porter was finding the correct bed for Raymond.

"Bed eleven? Bed eleven? There it is, straight from heaven." He stopped the wheelchair near to the left hand side of the bed.

"Stand up?" asked the porter to Raymond.

"Can't," replied Raymond.

The porter took his headphones off and said, "Bed eleven. That's it. You can stand now."

"I can't, I bloody can't get up!"

The porter sighed. So, he said as he did, "OK, I'll lock the wheels for ya, eh?"

He gently lifted Raymond's feet off the hinges of the wheelchair, with white socks that the patient is wearing. He put his hands around Raymond's back and slowly lifted him up. Raymond put one of his hands around the porter's shoulder and he felt himself being lifted by the porter. It was quite painful particularly for his wounded arms and legs. He groaned enormously and he trembled in agony. The patients watched as this was happening.

At last, Raymond was now sitting down on the bed. He exhaled in utter relief. Then, the porter went behind Raymond and said, "Right, let's take this cloak off ya, eh?"

"Draw the curtains," demanded Raymond, hoping that no one would see him when the curtains are drawn. The porter didn't do what Raymond has said, he just continued to what he was doing.

"Draw the bloody curtains!" repeated Raymond in desperate. But the porter just took the cloak off to reveal his Raymond's back. He noticed something that was trickling down Raymond's spine, even the patients were watching this too. Raymond had another scar on his back, in fact, this long scar has been there since he was young.

"That's enough to put off your bread and jam, Ronnie," said Mr Fall.

The porter then draw the curtains so that Raymond won't be seen for the time being.

Mr Fall spoke to Ronnie, again. "That's the problem with us men. We all suffer."

"Particularly with him having two scars, poor sod," said Ronnie.

"Are you OK?" asked the porter to Raymond. He didn't answer. "Did you need any help in there? Are you OK?"

Raymond didn't answer. So, the porter took the wheelchair with him and went away. He even put his headphones back on to listen to his music on his CD player. As he was gone, Raymond slowly moved a bit and then spoke to himself, memorising some conversations that the other male patients had made about him and also remembering what the detective said in his story.

"That's enough to put of your bread and jam, Ronnie. Sugar...spice...and everything nice. That's what little girls are made of. Sugar. Toots. Tits. Barris looked at her tits, cleavage, mostly. Her cleavage is dark and black as night. Poor sod. Those republicans, loyalists. The bunch of bastards. I'll wipe them out. Do you know who I am? I wear in black clothing, I'm not trying to be a racist. I'm a man, I'm not trying to be a sexist. And my name is Ray. I'm not a light from the sun. That's right. I am...I'm Black Man Ray."

Raymond croaky laughed after speaking to himself. He moved to his left, slightly, and made a decision. "Right," he thought. He was going to get his pyjamas that were hanging on the bed post. It was still painful for Raymond to move after being shot on both arms and legs. He tried to open up his fingers whilst lifting up his hand. However, the impact of him being shot caused damage to his bones inside his arms and legs. It wasn't helpful for Raymond at all.

"Oh, come on!" he said to his own body but his bones weren't strong enough for his fingers to open and react. It remained that way as his hands were still making fists. Worse still, his hips can't make him adjust himself properly. It caused him to lie on the bed by his side.

"Oh, bollocks!" he thought. Although he can reach for his pyjamas but as he grabbed and pulled it, it just slipped back from the start. Things were hopeless for poor Raymond.

He sighed heavily and said, even to anyone. "Help me if you can, I'm feeling down." He was hoping for a nurse to arrive and help him out.

Meanwhile, the nurse with her tea trolley was still serving tea for the other patients. She stopped for a patient who is black-coloured with short black curly hair. He comes somewhere from Africa and had emigrated into Northern Ireland. He was close to the age of 60, to be precise.

"Tea, Willie," said the nurse to him.

"Tea, no bread, no jam, tea," required Willie.

"Say please," demanded the nurse.

"Tea, no bread, no jam, tea," repeated Willie.

"Please."

"What?"

"Say please, Willie. Not hot water nor tap water. Please, thank you very much."

"Tea, thank you very much."

The nurse was getting a little impatient with Willie. "Tea, please."

"Tea, please," said Willie, at long last. "Thank you very much."

So, the nurse gave him a cup of tea with a saucer below the cup. What Willie likes was that he likes his tea to be strong. What he doesn't like was having the nurse to make him speak by using manners.

As she moved on, Willie said to himself, getting frustrated. "Tea, no bloody bread, no bloody jam..." He looked at his cup and smiled. "...tea." He then started to drink his tea.

The nurse then approached to Raymond's bed. "Mr McBr..." She noticed Raymond having difficulty to reach for his pyjamas.

"Oh, Mr McBride," she said, grimly. "What are you trying to do, hmm? You have to stop doing that. You are a bit of a fool, you know."

"Why?" asked Raymond, sternly. "Why it is when I use lose my balance just because I nearly got killed by a good-for-nothing, cowardly, dumb-witted loyalist who have to point his gun on me? Aren't you out of your mind?"

"Now now, we'll have none of that," said the nurse. Then, she gently lifted Raymond up so that he is sitting down on the bed again. "Now, what is it that you are trying to do, hmm?"

"I was trying to get my own pyjamas," grunted Raymond. "My blooming, blasted, bloody, buggering, sod..."

"Mr McBride!" interrupted the nurse. "I cannot tolerate the way you use your language in this hospital!"

Raymond calmed down, slightly, and said in a funny voice, almost sounded like the cartoon character, Bugs Bunny.

"I like to have my pyjamas, please. It will be much better for me to wear rather than this white cloak they gave me."

"Really?" sighed the nurse and she took the pyjamas off the bed post.

The other patients, again, were being nosey to know what was going on behind the curtains.

"Ronnie, are we going to do anything about it?" asked Mr Fall. "Are we going to accept this?"

"What?" hesitated Ronnie, as he was still reading some sort of book of his.

"What I'm talking about is justice. Justice, Ronnie."

"Oh yeah, huh."

"Cold tea never did anybody harm. At least, not bloody likely, I suppose. But in justice, that is in another matter. In justice, it eats the inside of you. What I like to eat is a nice piece of bloody cake."

"Teatime," the nurse called when she went back to her trolley and gave another male patient nearby to her their food and drink.

Mr Fall continued. "She should turn right every other time. That bleeping nurse. God, she's ugly! Don't you think she is one of the most ugliest, meanest, nastiest bitches ever to walk on Earth, eh?"

Ronnie still didn't listen to what Mr Fall has said. "Ronnie, are you bloody listening?"

"What?"

"Why don't you move your bed?" groaned Mr Fall.

"What for?" asked Ronnie, as he stopped reading.

"Just move your bed to the end, next to that bloody chap, whatever he looks like. Go on."

"No thanks."

"Well, you are in no company, are you? You're in no bloody company! You just sit there and read your own thing whilst I'm speaking to you. I might as well be sitting at home, watching television like soap operas, hard-line dramas and documentaries too. I'm in a living hell, that's where I am. A living hell!"

Suddenly, the nurse with the tea trolley stopped near to Mr Fall's bed.

"How are you today, Mr Fall?" asked the nurse. "You're ready for your cup of tea?"

Mr Fall got himself tidied up and replied in a proper manner. "Ah, it would be very nice, thank you very much."

The nurse placed the plate of cake on the table. Ronnie decides to speak to the nurse over what Mr Fall has said to him.

"He thinks you ought to turn right, sometimes."

"What?" she asked.

"Oh no no, err...just sharing our little tea party with our friend here," interrupted Mr Fall.

"Mr Fall says there's something that ought to be done about it," added Ronnie.

"Shut your mouth, Ronnie," begged Mr Fall.

"By the time you get to us," continued Ronnie. "Our tea is going to be stoned cold and to have us live in buggery."

"Language, Mr Lips," warned the nurse. She gave Mr Fall a cup of tea for him.

"You are very welcomed to see me in this bed, which either way you turn," replied Mr Fall to the nurse. Ronnie just laughed and the nurse walked away with the trolley.

Ronnie continued to laugh his head off as Raymond, meanwhile, thought of something that was part of his detective story. Something was in the water. First, a finger, then a hand, a back and a head. Below lies its buttocks, legs and feet. It was bare, complete with skin and it was completely pale.

It does nothing except for having the water to flow with it until a stick approached the body. On a bridge, stands Ray, the detective, watching as the body was being dragged and lifted up by at least two men on their boat. The body remains that way and they rolled the body on its back. It is soon revealed that the naked body that was drowned in the river was an old man.

"Poor sod," said Ray, as the body was then covered by a huge blanket.

**END OF CHAPTER THREE**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The next chapter is going to feature some of the characters from the Raccoons, as Raymond then suffers his first hallucination before starting to write his secret story of the animated world. Watch this space!


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter will be the first to feature characters from the Raccoons. The story that takes its place in the animated world, starts off just after the events of a television special, _The Raccoons and the Lost Star_. Schaeffer, the owner sheepdog of Ranger Dan and his kids, may had have a dream about him in this strange jungle planet he visited (by accident) and it was at the right place at the right time. What if the dream that Schaeffer had was for real? As this involves the two aardvark characters, Cedric Sneer and Sophia Tutu. I think you are going to like this bit as Raymond begins to write his first animated story.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to the Raccoons or any of the characters from the show. Raymond, of course, doesn't own the rights to the show and the characters from the show either. As he has seen this cartoon before on television, even when he was growing up quite quickly. So there!

**Chapter Four: Paint the Sky with Stars**

Raymond knows that his bedside table has a red pad, which hasn't been used yet but he did bought it before this shooting incident. He was thinking of writing a story to pass the time but he doesn't know what. He made a decision to see if he can reach the pad over by his left. Again, it was still too much for him to bare.

"Oh God!" he groaned and stopped immediately. "The red pad. I want my red pad and my pen to go with it. Sugar. Toots."

He struck an idea. Willie was on the right-hand side of him. He called over. "Willie. Willie!"

"What do you want?" asked Willie.

"Get my pen and red pad for me, would you?"

Willie remembered something from what the nurse had demanded for him to say earlier. "Please."

"What?" hesitated Raymond.

"Say please. Not hot water nor tap water, please. Thank you very much."

"Oh, for fuck's sakes!"

"No pad, no pen. I'm not writing."

With Willie misunderstanding him, Raymond became agitated. "You don't have to write, I want to write!"

Willie remained silent and Raymond sighed. "Alright. Please, Willie. Please, I need my red pad and pen for me to write on something. Thank you very much."

"No," replied Willie. "I can not do that."

"You bastard!" smirked Raymond.

"My doctor said there is something wrong in here," said Willie as he patted on his own chest. "And you wanna write down on something. Is it like a diary?"

"More than that, it's a story that I like to write."

"Well, there is something wrong in here as well." Willie patted on his head. "No, won't do it."

"But you're a cardiac, you're not a patient with a heart operation, nignog. I can't reach because I've been shot by a loyalist who is like a hawk who swoops down and catches its prey. How many times I have to speak to someone like that?"

"I must stay in bed. The doctor said to me, 'Stay in bed, nignog'."

Raymond croaky laughed. "Is that why? The doctor said that to you?" Willie lowly laughed as an answer to him.

"I've seen you padding around out of your bed, the other night," said Raymond, as he was making a lie to Willie, only to gain attention from him. "You sly old sod. Talking to someone or somebody like I am."

"Ah, no," said Willie. "I never speak to the other patients, no. Don't know if I can talk to you."

"Don't be a hypocrite, Willie. I want to write a story for you. I'll tell you all about it when I'm done. I do love your black colour of your face, you know."

Willie looked at him, suspiciously and decided that enough was enough. "OK, OK. I'll bloody do it for ya." He got out of bed and headed over to Raymond's bedside table.

"Oh, you're such a lovely boy," moaned Raymond, as Willie handed him the red pad and pen over to him. The fountain pen was black, no matter what colour it was. Raymond was determined to begin writing. However, Raymond noticed that his fingers won't open up properly due to his bones.

So, Raymond offered to Willie. "Open the pad, please." Willie did so and placed the pad in front of Raymond's hands. "Now, for the pen."

"I'll have the pen opened for ya," assured Willie, but he doesn't know how.

"The bottom, the bottom of the pen," pointed out Raymond, though he didn't use his fingers. At last, Willie had the pen opened and with one of Raymond's arms just reaching out and the other holding the pad, Willie placed the pen on Raymond's right hand.

"Thank you very much," said Raymond, in relief.

"Will your story be good?" asked Willie.

"Good? Huh! It's going to be bloody marvellous!" persuaded Raymond. "It will contain my hopes and desires coming true to me. Oh, I can see it now. I used to think that all I want is a good opinion of honourable men and the ungrudging love of beautiful women. Just imagine that you have a woman."

"I'm not married. I never was," said Willie.

"Well, all I'm saying is when a man loves a woman, he just waits patiently until the woman is ready. Ready for anything. Ready for this, ready for that. Ready to understand what real love is. They just touch each other and soon they get horny," chuckled Raymond. "You should find a woman of your dreams, Willie."

"I don't want to. I'm not saying that I don't like women and I'm not saying that I am a homosexual. I'm a virgin. Virgin, I tell ya."

"You know what, Willie. You should paint the night sky with stars and the moon shining upon you. Then, you should realise that the sky is about to have a shooting star passing by you."

Willie noticed that a doctor was approaching to a nurse behind him and Raymond. Willie decides to quickly get back to his bed before anything else happens.

However, the doctor and the nurse did notice Willie and Raymond called out. "Oh, I know I'm boring but I'm truly not as much as that." Willie hid underneath the bed covers, feeling nervous and worried that he was going to be caught and he was.

The doctor walked to Willie's bed and asked, sternly. "Were you out of your own bed?" He shook one of Willie's feet to receive an answer. "Excuse me," hesitated the doctor. "I said, were you out of your bed?"

"No, Dr Ellison, no," said Willie as he appeared from his bed covers, nervously.

"Oh yes, you jolly well were," said Dr Ellison. "What have I told you? What is the point of having my company..."

"Alright," interrupted Raymond. "It's my fault. I asked him for my pad and pen. I want to write down a story for myself."

"I can see why but you shouldn't." Dr Ellison looked at Willie. "I mean, he shouldn't got you out of bed." He turned back to Raymond. "You are taking an advantage of him. After all, you can't ask other patients who are ill in a dreadfully uncertain stage."

"You're not my doctor. Thank God."

"Whether I am or not, I'm telling you not to encourage this man to get out of his own bed. You're being selfish as he is."

"Now, listen here, doc."

"You're putting this man's health at risk for the sake of your vice."

"Now look here!"

"If this man has another heart attack, you will be responsible, won't you?"

"It will be one less though, would it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Immigrants, sunshine."

Dr Ellison gave Raymond a long stare. He asked to Willie. "Are you having trouble with this patient?"

"Yes, doc. I am, Dr Ellison," answered Willie, in a low voice.

"Has he being making offensive remarks about your origins?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean your race and colour and that stuff."

Raymond quietly chuckled and smiled.

"You mean my race?" hesitated Willie.

"Yes, your race," demanded Dr Ellison.

"Go on, tell him, Willie," said Raymond. "You black bugger."

Raymond sniggered and Willie quietly sniggered too. Then, Dr Ellison's pager bleeped. He felt worried about the way Willie had been encouraged by Raymond to make him stand up and been accounted for. He walked away from them.

"Jump out, little snot!" said Raymond, loudly. "Go on, you get out of bed if you want to, Willie, old pal."

Willie reached for his personal tape player and put his headphones on to listen to some music.

"Well, why not? What's the point? Why ain't you for one moment if you have to?" said Raymond. "Go on, get out of bed, jump up and down and put a pillow over my head and we'll all be merry and bright. Or why not go to the hardware store and buy a tin of blue paint? Come on. Then, you can pour some all over my hair and I'll end up looking like..."

He paused suddenly as something was standing in front of his bed. He was, in fact, suffering from a hallucination but there is no way he can stop this nor to anyone. This thing was a pink creature wearing a light blue sleeveless top, white shorts and light blue sneakers. This pink-coloured creature also has navy blue hair, blue eyes with a blue eye-shadow.

Raymond edged slowly and said to this creature. "You are. You're Sophia Tutu."

"How do you know?" she asked.

Raymond was amazed. "And...you can talk. I thought you can't but you can. I mean, I saw you on television when I was a lad. I even saw your friends too. You know Bert Raccoon, the ace reporter? And there's Cedric Sneer as well and not forgetting his angry father, Cyril."

"You certainly know a lot about me and my friends from the Evergreen Forest," said Sophia.

"Could I write a story that features you?" he asked. "I'm not going to show this to anyone. I like to keep this story as a secret to me."

Sophia slowly walked to her right-hand side of Raymond's bed. Raymond moved very slowly to the left to concentrate on what he was seeing. They stopped moving for short with silence around them. Then, Sophia started to slowly reach out for Raymond. One of her hands touched Raymond's left arm that was wounded. Raymond breathed gently, trying not to fear for anything, as he kept on looking at Sophia's face.

"You like me, do you?" she asked, softly.

"Yes," replied Raymond. His voice was about to crack up. Then, in slow-motion, the female aardvark disappeared. Raymond's hallucination was over but he was still thinking about her. He thought for a moment and decided to write a story on his new red pad with his black fountain pen to write on.

He took a deep breath and begins to write.

'Somewhere in the universe, lies a strange planet that features a jungle. The planet was like the planet Earth, half-covered in water, but in a different surrounding. Why not paint the night sky with stars and you will get the stars to shine, glisten and even dazzle on your eyes. Add the moon to go with it and it will shine just like the sun is, though not too bright. The trees were still and settle and the exotic plants sleep without dying and will be waiting for the bees to drink their nectar the next day. The river, that connects to a waterfall and a ravine, flows in a calm and relaxing manner. Nothing was moving. The sounds of a grasshopper chirping and an owl hooting can be heard in some distance yet it did not disturb the peaceful side of this jungle. It was not for too long.'

Somewhere, nearby the bushes, pops out a small, adorable looking creature. It was pouncing and bouncing on its four legs. Around its neck was a light blue collar with a little, yellow shiny star on it. It sparkles on its glory, sometimes. This kind of creature is a sheepdog. This adorable little puppy has a name called...

"Broo!" called a voice to him. Broo slowed down and went to find its owner. Its owner was Sophia Tutu.

"Come here you," she said as she hugged the little puppy whilst she was bending down for him. Broo happily licked at her face whilst cuddling with her mistress. They are a great partnership with each other.

"Oh Broo, it's no wonder you are such a hero. Especially with that shiny star on your collar," said Sophia.

"Woof! Woof!" barked Broo, wagging his tail behind him.

"You were so brave to save the planet Earth for your friend, Schaeffer. If it weren't for you and him, then Earth would have been taken over by the evil Imperial Commander."

She was mentioning Cyril Sneer for being the Imperial Commander. It has been a couple of days since a chain of unforgettable events that has happened in this jungle planet. Sophia, Broo, Schaeffer, their friend from Earth and three raccoons named Bert, Melissa and Ralph, had stopped Cyril from using missiles and rockets to attack the planet Earth. Another factor was for them to release most of the animals that were being captured by Cyril's army and was being sent to the dungeons.

For Schaeffer and with his home planet being safe for now, he left this jungle planet to head back home with Bert flying the aeroplane for him. It was sad for Broo to see Schaeffer go but Schaeffer assured him that they could see each other again. If only they could.

Broo lowly whined at Sophia, he still felt sad that Schaeffer had left him.

"I know you miss Schaeffer, Broo," said Sophia. "I understand how you feel." She then sighed and walked along with Broo to the river nearby.

She soon remembered something as the chain of events from the past had unfolded her. Looking up at the night sky, she knows the sky did look beautiful with the moon and stars shining upon her. However, it would not be beautiful without someone that she knew of. She was starting to think about her boyfriend, Cedric. She wished she hadn't turn her back on him whilst being captured by Cedric's father and his gang. Cedric did try to apologize to her but she wouldn't forgive him, that is, until she and her friends discovered that Broo received a map that Cedric had made for them. She was glad that Cedric was going to help her and she wished that she hadn't done was she did was best on Cedric. At least she could forgive him, only if she could see him again.

She and Broo arrived at the edge of the lake. She sat on the ground on her knees and looked at her reflection on the water. She began to shed a tear from one of her eyes and let it drop down to the lake below. This caused her reflection to differ and she felt like crying. Broo walked slowly and sat on his mistress's lap, noticing how sad his mistress was. He felt like shedding a tear too.

"Oh Broo," said Sophia, sadly. "I wish I could see Cedric again, then I would forgive him. I didn't mean to turn my back at him. I was just feeling...upset. Oh Broo, I wish Cedric was here with me. I wish he was here."

She and Broo continued to remain sad for the rest of the quiet, settled night. Of course, they were not the only ones feeling sad on that night.

A little far off from them, was a huge tent being put up by a group of pigs, bears, aardvarks and a Bluepoint Ridgeback Retriever (a dog). Snag and two bears, dressed in military-style uniform, were guarding outside the tent . Inside the huge tent, lies the Imperial Commander, Cyril, in a sleeping bag with a pillow behind its head. He felt poorly and was taken ill after his plan to take over the planet Earth was backfired by three raccoons, two dogs and a female aardvark. His son, Cedric, was also involved in backfiring his father's plan but Cyril doesn't know that, apparently.

Cedric was sitting down on his knees by his father's bedside. He began to open a conversation with his father. "Pop, Pop," he called softly.

Cyril opened his eyes slightly and said in a croaky, tired voice. "What is it, son?"

"I'm sorry your dream of taking over the planet Earth hadn't come true. I understand of how it all went wrong."

"Son, I'm not going to blame on you, I like to blame on those pesky raccoons, these measly mutts and that wretched Sofa Girl!"

"Sophia, actually, Pop," corrected Cedric.

"I don't care what her name is!" spluttered Cyril, with a cough. "If those raccoons and mutts and that Sofa Girl do show up at our camp-site, they should be stopped and destroyed!"

"Pop!" burst out Cedric, who was quite shocked over what his father said about them. "You can't be that serious just because they stopped you doesn't mean that they've hurt you."

"Cedric, that is something over what I and my guards are going to do about it. And you, Cedric, my boy, must not see anyone of those crooks at all!"

"Not even Sophia?" asked Cedric, in a quiet voice.

"Not even that Sofa Girl, Cedric!" shouted Cyril, then coughed afterwards.

"Take it easy, Pop," assured Cedric. "Shouting isn't good for your health, you know. You need to rest."

Cyril didn't respond as he felt like going to sleep. Cedric got up and was thinking about leaving until his father called him quietly. "Cedric."

Cedric turned around.

"Yes, Pop?"

"Are you going to make a promise for me, son?" asked Cyril.

"What promise?" hesitated Cedric.

"Promise me that you will see me, every single day, won't you?"

"Sure, Pop. I can do that for you. I'll promise to see you, Pop, every single day."

"Thanks, Cedric," yawned Cyril. "Leave me in peace." Cyril now felt like sleeping and Cedric left the tent.

Outside the tent, Cedric decided to take a night stroll across the jungle. He walked for a little time until he noticed the edge of a lake nearby. He moved close to it and looked down to see his reflection. He began to remember over what his father said about Sophia. It struck him and thought for some time. He didn't mean to do anything wrong at her, he just couldn't fully understand until he finally realised it all. He missed Sophia for the last couple of days and was now wishing that he could see her again.

"Oh Sophia," said Cedric to himself, he was feeling very lonely indeed. "I wish you would forgive me. I wish you were here, Sophia. I wish you were here."

**END OF CHAPTER FOUR**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Phew! It was another long chapter but we made it. The next chapter will have Raymond facing the music as he is going to stay in hospital for quite some time. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, wait for the next one!


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE**: **This chapter will have Raymond to live through with it as he is going to spend some time in hospital whilst his detective story continues with Barris talking to Eleanor. You will be in for a little chuckle or two!

DISCLAIMER: Like I said, in the early chapters, I do not own the rights to the Raccoons or any of the characters from the show. And, of course, some stuff being mentioned, including songs, I also do not own them.

Without further ado, we shall proceed...

**Chapter 5: The Dark Shades**

"I wish you were here, Sophia. I wish you were here," said Raymond as he was going through his story.

"What are are you talking about?" said a voice, in front of him. Raymond stopped talking to himself and looked at a nurse, who is younger than the last nurse he saw. The nurse has got brown hair and seemed to be a little bit pretty as Raymond thought.

"Err...nothing. No, nothing," replied Raymond. "Nothing at all. I was just writing down stuff, that's all."

The nurse had asked Raymond to remove his red pad and pen off him for the time being as she was going to do something to make Raymond feel better.

"Do you like my pyjamas?" asked Raymond. "I wore these pyjamas for three years now and the 'whether you like it or your money back' term seem to have paid off. I was ready to wear these before bedtime."

As he talked, the nurse was getting a thermometer to check his temperature. "High temperature again, have we?" she asked.

Raymond ignored her question and continued to talk. "What I like the most is when a woman's lips make contact with mine is and I get a gentle, smooth feeling all around my body. As it happened, I felt like a tulip in the wet season with the first raindrop being smacked onto it. I decided to open up."

The nurse put the thermometer in Raymond's mouth and he continued. "Boy, was I green or do I mean wet? To tell you the truth, your eyes are not foreseen as I can hear bells ringing in my head to alert me that I should kiss you."

The nurse frowned and asked. "We're in a good mood, aren't we? We're actually talking today, Mr McBride."

"What do you mean?" hesitated Raymond.

"According to a report, you didn't say one word yesterday. Not to anybody and that's not the first time you have done that, is it?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you?"

"You mean they put some thing on a report."

"Oh yes, everything." The nurse took the thermometer off Raymond's mouth to see his temperature.

"Is that why they think I'm a bit touched, me being droopy, not to mention Droopy Dog?" asked Raymond.

"No," smirked the nurse.

"Well, what then?"

"Depressed."

"Tranquillizers," huffed Raymond. "No worse for those anti-depressants, those brain-drainers and even for those head-smashers. Is that why they try to make me swallow them?"

"Well, if they help people..."

"Well, I'm not taking those things!" snapped Raymond, having himself being a young male adult feeling depressed at a stage like this. "I have a lot of work to do, I have a lot of thinking to do if I don't think. I'll never get out of this thing, never!"

"Never say never, Mr McBride," assured the young nurse. "You're gonna have to face the music, you know. You need to be spending some time in hospital as part of your recovery."

"How long will I stay in this hospital for, nurse?"

"Well, it could be as long as..."

"Nurse. Nurse!" called a male patient from somewhere.

"Excuse me for one moment," said the nurse as she left Raymond's bed area. The nurse noticed that it was Mr Fall calling out for her. She went over to see what he wants.

"What is it, Mr Fall?" asked the nurse as she was walking towards him.

"A quiet word," mouthed Mr Fall, hoping that no one will hear him. The young nurse moved closer and he whispered. "Beg pardon, my dear. I need the...you know...I need it very badly, sorry. The..."

Mr Fall noticed Ronnie being very nosey indeed. "...the contraption thing...you know err..."

"Contraption, what contraption?" hesitated the young nurse until she realised what Mr Fall really need so badly. She looked at Ronnie.

"Ronnie, would you please go and get a bed pan for Mr Fall and close his curtains," demanded the young nurse and she left to head back to Raymond.

"You got the shits again, haven't you, Fall?" asked Ronnie, quite rudely.

Mr Fall didn't answer.

"Now, as you were saying?" said Raymond as the nurse returned.

"Well, you could have a guess," suggested the young nurse.

"Will it be for one week?"

"No, not for a week."

"Two weeks?"

The nurse shook her head.

"A month?"

Again, she shook her head as an answer.

"Up until Christmas time, or what?"

"Mr McBride, you need to stay here in this hospital for at least three or four months, as part of your recovery," answered the young nurse, finally.

'Oh, bollocks!' his mind went. He sighed heavily.

Meanwhile, in Raymond's detective story, a singer with blonde, beautiful looking hair was singing at the Singers club. She was singing, 'Killing Me Softly With His Song', with the musicians composing to the song. Whilst she was singing, the others, like married couples an those who are on dates are mostly sitting down watching her sing or either eating and drinking their meals including for Barris and the girl that he had met with, named Eleanor.

Eleanor was smoking a cigarette whilst Barris was eating his dinner. "She's such a corker, ain't she, sugar?" she asked to him. "I mean genuinely artistic."

"Top hole," remarked Barris.

"And it's right too, what a girl should be told?"

Barris felt flustered over what the girl has said to him "I'm sorry?" he hesitated.

"Well, a guy can get very excited, can he?"

"You're telling me."

"But it's all fizz, you say anything, promise the earth..."

"You're not eating, Eleanor," regarded Barris, noticing that she hasn't ate much of her dinner.

"Well, one can't be hungry when eating so much, you know," replied Eleanor as she sipped a bit of champagne with her glass.

"Where do they get this meat? Real steak, never seemed to taste this rare meat since rationing began. I was a child when the war broke out. Six long years it was."

"If you ask no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

"Still in all, if it's legal, or it is a horse?"

Eleanor chuckled until she asked when Barris got up. "What's up, sugar?"

"I need the gents."

"Oh, what now?" said Eleanor. She looked at the female singer, still singing this slow-moving song.

"Well, she nearly done and I heard the song," explained Barris.

"You know where it is, sugar?"

"I'll find it, toots." So, Barris left the table and headed to the men's toilet.

As the singer had finished and the audience was about to give a round of applause until she said to the mind of Raymond's. "Mr McBride, you going to have to stay in this hospital for at least three or four months, as part of your recovery."

'Help me," thought Raymond. He felt like he had the goosebumps tickling around his skin. The audience, in the club, clapped and cheered at the female singer especially the men who enjoyed listening to her voice.

"Do I really have to?" moaned Raymond to the nurse.

"I'm afraid it's true," she said. "There's nothing more I can do for you except to help you feel much better."

"Let me ask you something," enquired Raymond.

"I'm all ears."

"Sometimes, I let my imagination run away from my mind and into what I am seeing. You know, I suffering some sort of... some sort of..."

"Hallucinations?"

"Yes, that's right. I don't know why."

"It might all go away sooner than you think, Mr McBride."

"You know, last night, I thought I saw a sexy-looking woman near next to me. She was going to sit on my lap and tried to seduce me. She was nothing but a bikini and she was about to take off her bra until..."

The young nurse looked at him, sternly and Raymond continued, "...until she was gone, disappeared into thin air. Sometimes, these hallucinations are better than the real thing, you know. People can sing in them and dance with them, I don't mind. But you know, I like cartoons," he chuckled at this point.

The nurse weakly smiled and asked. "You were writing some sort of story, in that pad of yours, weren't you?"

"Yes but that's not all," replied Raymond. "I also write detective stories. I'm seem to be influenced by these mystery dramas that I have been watching on television but I got to work."

"I'm sorry?" said the young nurse.

"I've got to get to work. I'm unemployed when I quit school during A-Levels. It was too stressful for me. A man must get on his two feet and go to work. I've got to work!"

"Calm down, Mr McBride," said the nurse, gently.

Raymond sighed and decide to let his detective story continue.

Barris walked through the glittering chain curtain, he was unaware that something unexpected will occur to him. He walked into a dark, dull corridor until he finds the men's toilet. He looked behind for a moment until he noticed two men wearing bowler hats and grey waistcoats. One of them was bigger than the other was.

He was about to open the door until it flung open by a man who has finished using the toilets. Barris moved out of the way and went in but he didn't really need to use the toilet at all. In fact, when he got out, he noticed that the two men with bowler hats and grey waistcoats were gone. Barris decided to move on, he passed the men's toilet and went through another set of chain curtains by ignoring the sign, 'Strictly Private.'

Onto another corridor he went, another door he spotted. He opened up and noticed a few women putting on their clothes for going out.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," apologized Barris. "I was trying to find the gents."

He quickly moved on until he noticed hangers left on a stand for some reason. Another set of chain curtains, he went through until he reached the end of the long corridor. Bars barred his way with a lock on it. There's no where else to go expect for a door on his right. It was also a dead end when he opened up. But then, with the room being dark and as Barris took a big step forward, something startled in front of him. A body landed down right by him and it was hanging on something upwards.

Barris jumped back immediately to find that it was a man hanging on a rope around its neck and a huge dagger going through his chest. Fully clothed but completely dead he was.

"Good God!" thought Barris.

"Why is it so hot?" thought Raymond, in a sleepy tone. He was tucked in at bed that night. Since this was the autumn, the nights were more chilly but for Raymond, he can definitely feel his body temperature going up. "I feel like I am a potato being peeled off and being put into a pot of boiling water. Oh, God!"

He mumbled to himself as his mind concentrated as if he was listening to slow jazz music.

Barris went back to the table where Eleanor was.

"You found it alright?" she asked.

"Err yes, yes I...found it alright," replied Barris, nervously.

Eleanor stared at Barris, oddly. "What's up, sugar?"

Barris remained nervous of what he had seen earlier and answered, "Erm...it's hot in here, the club is. The heat. Feels like I'm boiling up."

"You're dripping," she said when she noticed Barris sweating, touching his cheek softly by the tip of her fingers. "That shows a passionate nature, sugar."

"Well, what about you? You seem very cool to me."

"Oh, not even what I look like," said Eleanor and kept on smoking her cigarette. Then, the waiter brought in another bottle of champagne for them. Barris looked at the bottle in confusion.

"Not another bottle?" exclaimed Barris.

"Well, we have to keep coughing up in here if you want my company," replied Eleanor. She looked at him. "Sorry, toots, ain't any worth it? No need to drink it though."

Barris was getting out his wallet and said. "What is, for me paying five pounds per bottle?" He gave out a five pound note to the waiter. Then, Eleanor spotted a friend of hers walking towards them.

"Barris," alerted Eleanor as she tapped him on the arm. "This is my friend, Nikita."

Barris looked at Nikita as she wore a fur coat round her body.

"Hello," greeted Nikita, not quite in English though.

"Nikita likes a tip, Barris," explained Eleanor. Barris wasted no time as he gave Nikita a couple of single pound notes.

Nikita said 'Thank you' in her own foreign language, Russian. She walked away from them for the moment.

"Well," he thought. "Let's hope I get something back from her."

"That all depends, don't it, sugar?" said Eleanor. Barris said nothing more and began to look at her legs which was covered in her stockings. He glared at it and had a feeling that provoked him, believing that he could see what lies in store ahead for him. He still remains warm after seeing the dead body from earlier. Very soon, he will cool down.

**END OF CHAPTER FIVE**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The next chapter will have the characters from the Raccoons as Raymond keeps on writing his secret story of the animated world. Not only that, he suffers more hallucinations of these characters whilst being interviewed by the head GP. It will be exciting to read this chapter, so keep reading!


	6. Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter proceeds on with the story of when Sophia hears rumours that her boyfriend was killed after the volcano (Cyril's headquarters) was in self-destruction alongside with his father and and his army, which is not true, of course. Meanwhile, Raymond suffers more hallucinations by seeing the characters from the Raccoons during an interview with the head GP, a couple of doctors and a couple of nurses (including one who was serving tea for the patients earlier).

DISCLAIMER: As you have seen in the early chapters before it actually starts, I do not own the rights to the Raccoons nor any of the characters. Raymond also does not own the rights to the show or any of the characters, either. What I haven't got, what he hasn't got.

**Chapter Six: The Light Shades**

Raymond felt still and stiff when he was awake, the next morning. He soon noticed that a black-coloured nurse has entered through the curtains to see him.

"Excuse me, sir," she said. "You like to know that a head GP is going to see you in about ten or fifteen minutes, if it is OK with you?"

"Err...yes, yes," nodded Raymond. "Oh, nurse."

"Yes?" she asked as she was about to leave.

"Can I have my pad and pen for me, please? I like to spend a little time writing on it."

"You can, certainly, sir," she said and she handed over the pad and the fountain pen to Raymond.

"Thank you very much," said Raymond. "You're too kind."

The nurse smiled and then she left. Raymond decided to resume writing his story that is featured in the animated world. He wrote as his mind narrated.

'Daylight has entered another day for the jungle planet. Everything was starting to open up when the light broke in. From a leaf of a tree to a petal of a flower. It also marked the start of another day for Sophia Tutu and her puppy Broo. Broo would be, as usual, chasing a butterfly fluttering by or even sniffing on the ground for something. For Sophia, meanwhile, she was still thinking that if she would ever see Cedric again. Her worries were starting to take a toll on her until whilst walking along, she was soon distracted by a loud, crazy, annoying noise.'

"AAAHAAHH-AAAH-AHH!" it was the sound of a Tarzan cry made by Bert Raccoon, who was swinging on a rope. He is a creature that is full of energy and excitement, he was a bit too excited, unfortunately.

Sophia noticed Bert was swinging towards her and she ducked down in the nick of the time before she and Bert were involved in a nasty accident. Then, Bert headed face first onto an old bark tree. Eventually, he wasn't hurt but felt mostly dazed. Sophia got herself back up and she saw Bert in a heck of a mess.

"Oh dear! Bert, are you alright?" she asked as she approached to him to help out.

"Uhh...yeah...Sophia," he replied, slowly. "I'm alright."

"That was pretty dangerous over what you did, Bert. If you don't take these things easily, you could end up getting hurt or worse."

"Me? Bert Raccoon getting hurt?" he said as he got up. "Nah! Bert Raccoon never gets hurt! Why I could even dodge a speeding bullet that is heading straight for me or I can even get away from the Imperial Commander and his good-for-nothing guards by flying an aeroplane right up into the sky!"

Bert made the noise of how an aeroplane would fly. "Then, I could even try and..."

"Bert, that's enough!" shouted a female voice from behind him. It was Melissa Raccoon alongside with Ralph. They weren't impressed over what Bert did.

"Bert, you should know better rather than swinging on your rope like that," said Ralph, crossly. "You could've got..."

"Yeah, I know, Ralph," groaned Bert. "I almost did."

Melissa and Ralph noticed that Sophia and Broo were with Bert and were pleased to see them.

"How's you and Broo, Sophia?" asked Melissa.

"We're doing fine, thanks, Melissa," replied Sophia. "But I was just wondering if any of you have seen Cedric?"

"Cedric, you mean that guy who is the son of the Imperial Commander?" said Bert, suspiciously. "Huh! Why should I trust someone who has to be the son of a measly, wretched, wicked villain?"

"Bert!" shouted Melissa. She said to Sophia. "Sorry about Bert, he still acts that way when you mention about one topic he doesn't like."

"I could agree that Cedric is a friend of ours, Melissa," said Ralph. "He helped us out by drawing a map that was an escape plan for us. But I don't know if..."

"What is it, Ralph?" demanded Sophia.

"I mean, I heard a rumour from a friend of mine saying that the Imperial Commander had died after the volcano was in self-destruction. He thinks the others who were with the Imperial Commander at that time had died too."

"YAHOO!" yelled Bert. "He's gone! Gone for good! That means no more of him, no more of his bears, no more of his pigs, no more of the wretched blue dog of his and even no more of..." but soon realised over what Sophia had mentioned, "...his son, Cedric?"

"But...but it can't be! It's not true!" whimpered Sophia as her body was starting to tremble. Broo whined at Ralph, he was feeling the same way as Sophia is.

"I wouldn't be mean to your boyfriend, Sophia," assured Melissa. "But he did what he had to do. I don't know if you can see him, Sophia. I do feel sorry for him anyway than to his father, I suppose."

Sophia felt cracking up. Her eyes were starting to turn tearful believing that this rumour might be true (however, it was not).

"No! No, not Cedric! He can't have!" she cried, loudly and broke down. She sat on her knees thinking she could fall down to the ground.

Melissa moved close to Sophia and hugged her for comfort. Broo let out a tearful howl. Bert realised that he shouldn't be making rude comments about Cedric and now felt sorry for him as well as for Sophia and Broo. Ralph looked at Bert, crossly.

Sophia kept crying after receiving a comfortable hug from Melissa. She looked up at the sky believing that Cedric was up in there in heaven, already. She still let out tears from her eyes and thinks that her relationship with Cedric had come to an end already. Her face was turning pale, the pale it was the better chance for her to become white.

White was the colour of a light coming out of the darkness and that it was approaching to Raymond as he thought. A growling noise of an engine was accompanied by the light and another noise of a female person's cry calling out his name. Raymond was still as a statue he was, over the thought of it.

Outside Raymond's bed area, in hospital, a smart-looking man with glasses was being joined by at least three or four doctors and nurses as they were on their way to see Raymond and the situation that he is following. One of the doctors opened up the curtains for the head GP so that he will be the first to see Raymond.

"Good morning, sir," he greeted. "I can see that you have been named as..."

"McBride, Raymond McBride," said one of the nurses.

"And how are you feeling, Mr McBride?" asked the head GP.

"Not at all that bad," answered Raymond, almost in a croaky voice.

"Like to remind you, Head," said one of the doctors to the head GP. "His body temperature remains high as previously thought,"

"I'm aware of that," said the head GP. He spoke to Raymond. "It's been about a few days since you have been wounded, Mr McBride. Can you manage to move altogether especially with your arms and legs being shot at?

"Not much," said Raymond. "The only thing I can move is my own head and I have to see this and see that. The one thing I can see is those patients here, in this ward, are acting like if they're in 'Looney Tunes' or something like that."

"We have removed all of the bullets from Raymond's parts. His bones, however, have been fractured in the aftermath of this," said a doctor near to the head GP.

Whilst he was explaining the details, Raymond was having a short hallucination in which he can see Sophia Tutu standing behind the head GP and the doctor talking. Raymond can just discover tears that are slowly flowing down her cheeks. It wasn't too long until the hallucination was over.

"Erm...excuse me," interrupted Raymond, but the head GP asked to him.

"Have you have any thoughts that is going into your mind?"

"Speaking of which, Head, Mr McBride claims that he had a hallucination in which he thinks he sees a woman nearby to him wearing in some sort of attractive clothing and was trying to seduce him," said the doctor near to the head GP.

The head GP turned to see the Staff Nurse, who was the nurse who carried the tea trolley earlier. "Isn't that so, Staff?"

"Well yes, he had," she explained. "I thinks he's a bit worried about seeing some sort of taboo getting into him."

"Tootsy woozy, hmm?" asked the black-coloured doctor to Raymond.

"Of course, we never allow women or men to arrive in hospital in some sort of raunchy clothing which is against the dress code for anyone who is visiting," said a nurse with an Irish accent.

"Quite so, quite so," said the head GP. Then spoke to Raymond. "Well now, I have got all the details that has been given to me, Mr McBride, if I'm right to pronounce you like that. I wonder if you need some special advise by speaking to someone?"

Raymond didn't answer, he wasn't too sure if he was going to have some special back-up being provided for him.

"Do you understand the question?" asked the head GP, hoping for an answer.

"No, I don't think so," answered Raymond.

"I'm asking if you would like to speak to someone special?"

"I don't understand the question, sir. I don't think I will be bothered to chat to someone who can make my head spin."

"What did he say?" asked the black-coloured doctor to the head GP.

"The last time I saw someone special is a woman who have to treat me like I'm being banged and stamped and being swept by a person's dirty, rotten shoes," complained Raymond. "It feels like I'm being pissed off already."

"Mr McBride," said the nurse with an Irish accent.

Raymond continued. "It turned out to be one of the persons working in a boring, functional condition in this hospital. That person had thought to be some sort a bloody doctor or even a bloody nurse!"

There was a short silence until the head GP broke the ice by laughing. The other doctors and nurses also laughed to what Raymond has said.

"Very good," said the head GP. "Tell me, what do you do for a living, Mr McBride?"

"I thinks he unemployed, sir," said the doctor next to the head GP.

"I'm not unemployed," remarked Raymond. "I have a dream to work on."

"A dream? What dream is it?" asked the head GP and said a couple of suggestions. "Finding the perfect job, getting your own two feet back on the ground or even..."

"I write stories about a detective in pads that have a black colour cover," snapped Raymond. "Not trying to offend one of you but I have been influenced by watching detective shows when I was a sensible teen."

"Oh I see, you want to be an author. I understand you could have your detective becoming the new Sherlock Holmes. I know that..."

"Will you listen to me, will you please, please listen to me for one moment, all of you," begged Raymond. "I can't talk too good because I am having my head lying on the bottom of the pillow and I could recommend a little assistance please."

The two nurses walked over to Raymond, one on each side and lifted Raymond from his shoulders slowly and carefully. He felt his wounded arms and legs moving with him. He groaned in pain. But at last, Raymond had the back of his head feeling the middle of the soft pillow behind him. He felt relieved from that.

"Thank you," he said kindly to the nurses.

"Now, what is it you like to say?" said the head GP.

"Well...I think that...I've...I think I have...I have reached the end," muttered Raymond.

"Of what?"

"My life!"

"Oh, hush now," said the nurse with the Irish accent.

"I believe in God and I do believe in his home, heaven. I'm a Roman Catholic. I can't stand...I mean...I truly can't stand it. I truly can't get on top of it and I can't see clear of it and I can't find my way through it." Raymond began to shed a tear. "And if I don't tell someone and if I don't admit it, then I'll never never get through with it! I'll never get my two feet standing on the ground again!" Raymond started to cry. "Oh, you can see my tears, can you? I'm sorry but I have to cry. It's just that I do like girls. I like pretty, dashing, beautiful girls. Girls who have pretty faces and beautiful looking hair."

Then, he began to laugh and continued to speak. "Sometimes, if I laugh, then my body would start to wiggle and shake. It can hurt a little bit to my wounds though and so too goes to my scar that is on my face as well as my back. God, talk about the book of Job, I'm a prisoner that is inside the Maze Prison with all of the republicans and loyalists being locked up in there doing horrible crimes. I just hope I won't suffer of what those republicans did when I was a little boy."

Raymond cried like anything, feeling really bad of himself.

"You know," said a funny voice. "We understand how you feel, ol' buddy."

Raymond slowed down his cries and looked up slightly. Again, he was another one of those hallucinations. This time, his hallucination was much longer than he had expected. He can three raccoons standing in front of him. One has a sweater with the letter 'B' on it, one that has a white scarf and the other with a pink top. He realised that the head GP, the two doctors and the two nurses had disappeared.

"You can tell us anything," it said. "We can help you out."

'My God!' thought Raymond whilst looking at the three raccoons. 'Bert, Ralph, Melissa, is it really you? Or am I...'

Then, the three raccoons moved closer to Raymond, Melissa was on the right-side of Raymond while Bert and Ralph were on the left. Raymond was looking right to gaze at Melissa then to the left to stare at Bert and Ralph.

"Say, ol' buddy," said Bert. "Wanna go and see someone who's a friend of mine?"

"You mean...you mean?" muttered Raymond.

Then, at the next moment, Raymond was on the wheelchair being pushed by the black porter and the porter gave a big push at the wheelchair and poor Raymond was travelling by himself at a fast rate. He was heading straight to the doors that leads to complete brightness and was speeding through the dark corridor.

As it happened, Raymond heard a female voice calling out to him. "Raymond! Raymond, come back! Raymond!"

He plunged through the doors and saw something quite faintly. It was walking towards him, he knew who it was.

"Sophia. What are you doing here?" asked Raymond.

Sophia did not speak, she stared at him closely. She can see the scar that was situated on the right side of his face. She cautiously touched the scar by one of her fingers. It caused a small sting for Raymond. He moved his head back from it, but did not fear.

Sophia zoomed in so that she is making eye contact with Raymond. There was a short pause for the two of them.

"You like me, don't you?" she asked.

Raymond was silent at first but wasted no time by replying. "Yes. I...I like you, Sophia."

Sophia smiled and looked at him in awe. The two noses between her and Raymond are actually touching. Raymond didn't want to expect something that he had plan to dream of. He exhaled from a deep breath and Sophia can feel his breathing when the air surrounds her mouth with a glow of warmth around it. It was so much for him to bare and he soon noticed that Sophia was fading away slowly and quickly.

Raymond then shut his eyes for a moment and opened them up quickly. His hallucination was all over. He can now see the head GP, the two doctors and the two nurses again. He can no longer see the three raccoons he first saw in his hallucination. He let out a huge breath of relief.

For the head GP, he was already making a few suggestions about what he and his doctors and nurses are going to do with Raymond.

"Would you like to speak to your family, would you like that, sir?" asked the head GP.

"I think it might better for him to speak to a psychotherapist, perhaps?" suggested the doctor near to the head GP.

"Yes, looks like it to me," replied the head GP. They silently agreed that they should end the meeting with Raymond.

"Good day to you," said the head GP. "Keep your head up, young man."

So, the head GP and all of the other doctors and nurses left him in peace. Raymond remained still and he can hear another voice. In fact, this voice was from a man. He was calling out his name and even whistling for him. As it lasted for a little time, Raymond closed his eyes slowly and could hear the sound of a shotgun being used at. It fired twice and there was silence for him.

**END OF CHAPTER SIX**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Gosh, that was some chapter to read through, wasn't it? Anyway, the next chapter will be hilarious particularly when something unfortunate happens to poor Raymond in hospital the night after the meeting. It will also be the last chapter to feature Raymond's detective story.


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter will not only be the last chapter to feature Raymond's detective story but it will also be the last to feature some of the characters from the Raccoons. It is a shame though but the story will soon end in the next couple of chapters.

You may like to know that even if you have already been reading through this story, the first chapter that had its violent content is being toned down in the wake of the news of a tragic, upsetting event that occurred at a cinema in Denver, Colorado. I couldn't be anything but appalled and shocked of how the news coverage had took me by storm. My wishes go to the relatives and friends who lost their loved ones in this shocking scene.

DISCLAIMER: Like I said, I do not own the rights to the show nor any of the characters from the show. I don't know why I have to put these disclaimers in but still that's the way the cookie crumbles.

**Chapter 7: Paint Pot**

"Hey! Hey!" called a gruff voice nearby to Raymond. It was Willie calling to him. "Hey!"

Raymond opened his eyes and replied, "I'm sorry, what?"

"He's letting you go," said Willie.

"What?"

"Go out, out there."

"Oh for Christ's sake, Willie, old pal."

"Go out, out of this bloody place."

"Where to old mate? There's no place else to go because I like it here. I made up my mind and I'm going to stay, I'm not going to leave."

"Oh, shut up!" said Willie and went back to listening to his faourite music on his personal tape player.

"You forgotten what it is like to go out there in the real world, Willie. Listen, please listen to me. It's not safe out there, they chew each other up out there." Then, Raymond remembered something. "Hey Willie, pass me over that pad and pen, would ya?"

Willie was too busy listening to his music.

"Willie. Willie!" shouted Raymond. No response came from Willie.

Raymond said to himself. "I want to write, there's nothing more that I can think about. I can see the sights and I can hear the sounds. I can even face the music and all that jazz." He called out to Willie, one last time. "Willie!" Still no answer from him.

So, Raymond said more to himself but he felt that his body was becoming much warmer than he had expected. "Boy, I'm feeling hot and bothered now. It's hot. Why is it so hot in here? I'm sweating." He could now remember of how his character Barris was sweating after discovering a dead body in his detective story. "Barris is sweating. Toots. Tits. Barris looked at someone's tits. No, he was looking at someone's legs, being worn in stockings that are quite hot to wear. That shows a passionate nature, sugar."

He imagines that he was listening to slow jazz as his detective story continued.

"I'm not a tart," said Eleanor. "Some girls got to live, haven't they? Put a figure on it."

"A round one?" suggested Barris.

"A round of what?"

"A nice round figure, ten pounds."

"Oh, a large sum is better, sugar."

"Sorry?"

"Fifteen, sugar."

Barris sighed. "Oh, this is a very expensive evening, indeed."

"Oh come on, I'm not being greedy. It's not really for me," said Eleanor.

"Then who is it for, your sick mother?"

Eleanor wasn't impressed. "I thought you were a nice guy, I thought this was going to be nice. I'm used to pigs that can trot and..."

"Alright," interrupted Barris. "Fifteen."

Eleanor began to smoke another cigarette then Barris said. "Let's hope you're worth it."

"Oh, I'm good," reminded Eleanor. "I'm very very magnificent. Apart of anything that I am good at, bed."

Then, Nikita approached to Barris and Eleanor.

"Barris," said Eleanor, whilst watching Nikita. "Fancy at having a go of speaking Russian to my friend, Nikita?"

Barris wasn't too keen on paying Nikita the money that he is spending. "Well, let's hope I get something," he remarked.

"You're going to get something back," assured Eleanor. "Don't worry, Barris." She said to Nikita, "We're not going to leave the customers, aren't we, Nikita?"

"Non," answered Nikita.

"Go on," encouraged Eleanor to Barris. "Speak some Russian to her."

"I'll try anything for once," said Barris, then spoke to Nikita in Russian. It was only for a short conversation.

"Your Russian's not bad," said Nikita, in English. "It's not good, though."

"Long time since I had a chance to use it," said Barris.

"You are allowed to order champagne for Nikita, too. They let you do that," said Eleanor.

"They?"

"I get permission," replied Nikita.

"And what do I get?" asked Barris, sincerely.

Nikita answered his question by giving him a gentle kiss right on his lips. "Guess?" she said, softly.

Barris was stunned, he'd never in his life received a kiss from a woman who can be attractive and even seductive.

Raymond, meanwhile, can't get a sleep of a wink that night. Everyone else is asleep except for a nurse who is in charge on night duty. The nurse who is another one of those with an Irish accent was writing down pages on her desk with a lamp on. Raymond can remember what the head GP and the doctor nearby to him were saying whilst requesting some ideas of theirs.

'Would you like to speak to your family, would you like that, sir?'

'It might be better for him to speak to a psychotherapist, perhaps?'

"Perhaps I should," spoke Raymond, quietly to himself.

He now imagines that he was the naked body being dragged out of the freezing water of the river. There watching, standing on the bridge, was the three raccoons Bert, Ralph and Melissa and the female aardvark holding on to her little puppy, Sophia and Broo. They felt sorry for Raymond for being drowned like that.

Raymond spoke to himself after letting imagination getting into him. "The captain is asleep, now drifting off, no anchor being used in the dark. We are lost, all of us, lost at sea." He was thinking about getting some sleep but on that same night, something quite unexpected happened.

Someone was out of his bed, he was allowing his mind to sleepwalk as it happened. He thinks that he can see his wife named Marianne sleeping in the bed that belongs to Raymond. That person was Mr McKenna, he was slowly stumbling and shaking towards him.

"M-M-Marianne," stammered Mr McKenna.

Raymond had his eyes open wide when he noticed that something was happening to him. "What's going on?" he thought.

Mr McKenna touched him on the shoulder before he grabbed the bed covers.

"Oh God, what are you doing?" said Raymond, feeling quite nervous.

Mr McKenna thought Raymond was his wife. "Where have you been, Marianne?" he said and wanted to hug Raymond.

"What are you doing?" repeated Raymond as he shouted. His shout started to wake almost everyone up in the ward. "What are you...get off! Would ya...!"

Poor Raymond couldn't believe that this would be happening to him as he tried to shake but Mr McKenna was too strong.

"Where have you been, Marianne?" repeated Mr McKenna. "Come on, Marianne. I want...something."

"Oh come on, for goodness sakes!" shouted Raymond. "I'm a man! Not a woman for God's sakes! Get off!"

Mr McKenna was now trying to get on top of Raymond but someone called out nearby.

"Oi! What's going on?" it said. It was the nurse on night duty. She went over to the scene of the disturbance where Raymond was shouting for help.

"Oi, you! Get off this bed at once!" she said, crossly. "This is someone else's bed, you need to get back to your own bed, this instance!"

She shined the torch on the spot where the disturbance was taking place. She soon found out of what was happening and had started to tease. "Ooh, what a naughty boy you are, Mackie!"

She started to laugh like anything. As soon as this was a laughing matter, the other male patients joined in with the nurse. They never seen anything like it.

"Go on, Mackie!" called Ronnie. "Shag that scarface!"

"You dirty old devil!" laughed Mr Fall.

Raymond was getting more annoyed than ever. "Nurse, Nurse! Get this stupid man off me, Nurse!"

The nurse was too busy enjoying this moment. Raymond had no choice but to raise his hips to make Mr McKenna go onto the other side of Raymond's bed and before he fell down gently on the floor. Mr McKenna couldn't quite believe of what was happening to him. He was wondering why the nurse and the other patients were laughing at him.

"For a minute, I thought that was my wife," he muttered.

The nurse and the other patients kept on laughing whilst Raymond was breathing out for air after this silly disturbance was created from the demented, unstable patient.

Meanwhile, in Raymond's detective story, Barris was standing nearby a railroad as Raymond narrates.

'It was cold waiting for a man to come out. The air was like Jack Frost's icicles all over his ice cold body. Although not as icy as the double-crossed heart that beats under his cashmere coat. He intended to warm himself on his prize flesh. Work and pleasure and a kiss before bedtime. Barris stared, he did not expect to see two ladies galloping together. What was cooking?'

"Hello, sugar. Ain't you got a taxi yet?" said Eleanor.

"Not around," explaining Barris. "It is 2am in the early hours of the new day."

"Oh, there will be one. There's always a taxi. After all, you are killing me softly."

A taxi had arrived. "I see, you are a magician, aren't you?" said Barris.

"A wizard, I prefer it rather than being called a magician," insisted Eleanor.

"Are you err...?"

"If you don't mind if I give my friend a lift, would you?"

"Well, you are obliged."

'So, Barris opened the door for the girl who kissed his tender lips goodnight. He wondered whether Eleanor was as dumb as she sounded. But you can tell the way Eleanor had to flash her eyelashes like that. She might be some sort of fusspot or even a paint pot!'

**END OF CHAPTER SEVEN**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The next chapter would also be funny but will end up being sad as Willie's life is about to take an unexpected end. Have a handkerchief handy with you.


	8. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the second last chapter that I am writing in this story. Be embraced for two scenes, one that is funny and one that is sad. Like I say, this is some chapter.

DISCLAIMER: Oh boy, I must. I do not own the right to the Raccoons nor any of the characters from the show.

Now, that's it. Let's continue now. We are coming close to the end of this story.

**Chapter 8: A Painting in Ruins**

"Good afternoon, sir," a voice spoke to Raymond. It was one of the doctors that he had met yesterday along with the head GP and the other doctors and nurses. "And how are you feeling?"

"I'm not very well," answered Raymond. He wasn't really in the mood for a conversation. "I'm not worried about Barris being such a nerd talking to two girls who claim to be prostitutes."

"Excuse me?" hesitated the doctor.

"Err...nothing, doc. I feel silly answering a question that I don't dare to care about."

"Come come, it's only a manner of speaking."

"And a very tedious one, too."

"Not feeling too great today? Well, that's not very surprising, is it? You're going through a tough time at the moment."

"Look, I'm impressed by your astonishing powers of deduction which surpass even those with the great homes himself."

"Now now."

"But I am trying to do some work."

"Work, what do you mean?"

"Or are you one of the great majorities who think that writing isn't work?"

"Why no, of course not."

"Or do you by any chance, labour under the delusions that can consist solemnly and entirely of actually putting words on a page without thought, without planning, as if I was writing for an Irish newspaper column or something?"

The doctor felt a little flattered over what Raymond has said. "Ah, I see what you mean."

"Do you now?" demanded Raymond.

The doctor didn't answer, he just found a chair to sit on and said. "It must be hellish to work out a plot about a detective story, I should think. I suppose you have to shatter clues all over the place."

"Yeah, is like throwing grit on some hens," said Raymond.

The doctor looked at the red pad that is sitting on Raymond's bedside table. "You wouldn't mind if I should have a look at that pad of..."

"Nah-ah-ah!" said Raymond, loudly. "That's not a pad which is part of my detective story. It's a story that I like to be kept secret."

"Oh, well, what is it?"

"Never you mind. We don't want anyone to hear of what we say about things of what they might want to know of. Even walls have ears, that's what some people might say. The hens wouldn't lay, the cock wouldn't crow and the eggs don't taste too good especially with curry."

The doctor felt glum. "I see."

"Oh for God's sakes! For the Lord's heavenly sake!" muttered Raymond.

The doctor cleared his throat and asked. "Mr McBride, do you think...you have the right attitude to speak to me after you have been wounded in a gun attack for the last few days?"

"Do you?" hesitated Raymond. "I mean that is the really interesting question isn't it, your attitude?"

"Partially...yes but you should also consider..."

"Will I ever be able to use my arms and legs again?"

"Well now, that's something I like to..."

"Move on? Moving onto another subject like the meaning of life, the meaning of sex and the meaning of how a gorilla is transformed into a man?" The doctor was silent but Raymond was consistent. "Come on, tell me. Never mind the blabber, I can get that from another doctor of yours, thank you very much."

"You ask these questions as though someone else was responsible for your current condition."

"Oh, you know who did it, do you? You know the person who almost tried to kill me, or are you trying to be biased to a group that you might know of?"

"I'm not, I never should be biased to some sort of..."

"Community, is it? Is it the loyalist community, the republican community, the social community, the conservative community, the liberal community or even the mixed community in which you can't decide whether to stay on the left or on the right. You'll end up being a pig in the middle."

"Mr McBride," the doctor said, sternly. "I am not supposed to talk about politics, I am supposed to talk about your future, your health and the help that you actually, actually need."

"What do you mean, what are you talking about?"

"What I am trying to say is that you're not some patient who has a life-threatening injury or in any critical condition. I've seen patients who are a lot worse than you are when they have been caught up in a gun attack or even in a bomb blast. But I think it's fair to say that none of them reacts in quite the way that you do with such...aggression..."

"What do they do, sing musicals or trying to be 'Looney Tunes' or some sort of silly acting that they do?"

"Well, they don't rail against the world in all that is in it, they don't behave as if they just falling into a sewer."

"Are you trying to tell me that I should take the tranquillizers?" asked Raymond, as if he was using caution. "Or is it a deodorant that you have in mind?"

The doctor was quiet at first at first but then answered precisely. "I think you should take them. The tranquillizers, for a little while."

"No, I won't!" grumbled Raymond.

"That's entirely up to you, of course. No one is going to ram them down your throat. But where are you going to learn some common sense? Or are you going to learn some sophistication?"

"You what?"

"Sophistication. I mean, take for instance, you have some things that is part of your culture, for example, your religion, your family and your friends. It's very easy to talk about..."

"It isn't to me. I don't know about sophistication, thank you very much."

"Well, tell me something of what you believe in, something that you like nowadays, like T.V. Programs, music and that stuff."

"Let's see now, erm..."

Raymond took a deep breath and said to the doctor about what he likes and what he believes in.

"There's the news, newspapers, News at Ten, ten green bottles standing on the wall, Humpty Dumpty, rhymes, music, opera music, 80's music, 80's T.V., 80's cartoons, not all, apparently, err...80's gameshows, gameshows that have the term 'money is no object', Countdown, countdown to destruction, war stories, war films, films that are highly-acclaimed, highly acclaimed T.V. Shows like comedy, documentary, drama, mystery drama, Agatha Christie, authors, fantasy, humour, romance, passion and to round things off, the perfect thing for a story to really have a happy ending is a pure, tender, loving, passionate...kiss."

The doctor smiled, thinking this was making him feel calm and steady whilst being interviewed.

"Very good, very nice," he said, happily. "And the things that you dislike?"

"I'm not trying to offend you," warned Raymond. "There a few things that you might not want to hear but I'll try anything for once."

Raymond took another deep breath and said out the things that he dislikes.

"Well, there's violence, hatred, racism, internment, genocide, suicide, the final solution, the Nazis, fascism, abuse or people who felt their lives would have been suffered from AIDS, HIV+, I wonder queers have to be so special?"

"Yes, I see now," said the doctor grimly.

Raymond continued. "Then there's cigarettes, car smoke, smelly diesel, crude oil, cannabis, cocaine, heroin and ecstasy, in which The Shamen thinks that ecstasy is good for you, well it's not. And there's cholesterol, fast food, junk food, some foreign food that some people don't like to eat, alcohol, drunk people, people who like to strip themselves in front of the public..."

(The doctor looked at Raymond, sharply, in an unwelcoming surprise.)

"People who like to touch and stroke their private parts, masturbation, oral sex, rough sex, group sex, homosexuality, orgy and the one thing that makes me want to throw up on my next door's dustbin nearby is...pornography."

The doctor was not impressed of how Raymond spoke out a few details of what he dislikes. He said sternly to him. "I want you to think very carefully about what I am going to say to you. There's a very good man, at the hospital, very alert and err...sympathetic and I like you to talk to him."

"What do you mean? Alert and what, what are you talking about?" hesitated Raymond. "Who is he, anyway? You'll get yourself struck off!"

"His name's Dr Mansworth."

"Is he worth it though?" replied Raymond, as he teased about his surname. "Is he worth it for smoking, drugs, alcohol, study or either being on the dole because he was a Protestant when working to become as a journalist for an Irish newspaper? What is he alert and sympathetic about, anyway?"

"He's a...psychotherapist. That's right. He's a very good man, you'll get on well with him."

"Get stuffed!" grunted Raymond. "Especially with someone's dick that is in your mouth!"

The doctor was getting very annoyed of what Raymond had said to him. "Y-you...you are out of order, I shall not be spoken to in this sort of manner."

"Then, F-U-C-K off, sir," said Raymond, rudely.

"I will speak to you again. Good afternoon," said the doctor and left so that Raymond will have some peace.

"Good afternoon," said Raymond and as soon as the doctor was out of sight, he added. "And piss off." He was relieved that he can be left alone but not for long.

"Hey! Hey!" It was Willie calling to him. "Hey!"

"Oh God, what do you want?" groaned Raymond.

"He's letting you go."

"Christ Almighty! Where to, Pearl Harbour?"

"What did he say then? When will you go out?"

"Look, we're never going to get out of this place, Willie, old pal. This is our home on the range. It's a hot place alright."

"Don't talk rubbish. Fear not. I can fear it happening, any time now."

"Yeah, we will. One day, arm in arm together, eh? Like the Black and Tans. You're black and I'm using tan. What do you think, sunshine?"

Willie felt downhearted. He wasn't going to look on the bright side of life. "Yeah, looks like we'll never get out of this bloody place. You're right, we'll never get out of it. Never."

"Never say never, Willie," assured Raymond. "Cheer up. Come on, sunshine. After all, you are the sunshine of my life. We'll see the stars on the night sky when we go out, eh? I promise, honest."

Willie's eyes started to fill with water from his own. Then, he remembered something and smiled. He turned to look at Raymond. "Hey! Hey!"

"Oh, shit for brains, Willie," said Raymond, he was getting impatient with him. "What do you want now?"

"You want sweet?"

"Sweet? I want sour, not to mention the grapes."

"You want sweet," replied Willie, loudly. "I have a lot of sweets. They're toffee sweets."

"It is Werther's?" asked Raymond, then he sang. "Is it that feeling that you'll never will forget?"

"You have sweet. I'll have sweet," said Willie, excitingly. "And we'll say up the arse, eh?" He chuckled along with Raymond.

"Yeah, you're right, Willie. I like to have a sweet, please, there's a good chap." Raymond was now starting to feel friendly with Willie. "We'll stick those sweets right up the doctor's arse!"

Willie laughed and decided to hand over his sweets to Raymond. Suddenly, as he was reaching out, he felt a jerk that is inside his body. It caused him to drop his sweets on the floor. He began to wheeze. Raymond slightly turned to look at Willie. He wasn't too sure if Willie was alright.

"Willie, are you trying to play a joke on me, huh? Dropping your sweets on the floor like that?"

Willie wheezed heavily causing Raymond to pay more attention to him. "Willie? Willie, are you OK?" Willie was getting worse. "Willie, talk to me! Willie!"

Willie didn't respond and he never will again.

"Oh God!" thought Raymond. He took a deep breath and shouted for a nurse to help out Willie. "Nurse! NURSE! WILLIE'S IN TROUBLE! COME QUICK, NURSE!"

The Staff Nurse was just ordering out something to one of the patients and can hear Raymond's call and Willie lying in an awkward position. She went to over to Willie as quickly as she could.

"Willie? Willie, are you OK?" she asked. No response She check to hear any breathing from Willie but his breath was already going cold. She propped him up and one or two nurses came along to see what was the matter.

"Call 199!" said the Staff Nurse, urgently.

Raymond watched in complete fear for Willie as the Staff Nurse took off Willie's pyjama top and started to CPR (chest compressions) on Willie. She and the other nurses had to act fast as Willie was dying. The other patients watched to see what was going to happen next to Willie. The nurses quickly get the right equipment out for Willie including a monitor that checks the heart rate of a patient.

The Staff Nurse was doing chest compressions and ordered the other nurses to act fast. "Hurry!" she demanded. Not just at least five nurses who went out to help, so did three doctors. The nurses started to close over the curtains so that no one (the patients) will see what the doctors and nurses are doing to Willie.

Raymond can hear what the doctors and nurses are saying, he can remember one doctor saying to him about Willie.

'I'm telling you not to encourage this man to get out of his own bed. If this man has another heart attack, you will be responsible, won't you?'

Raymond just shut his eyes, fearing for the worst. He can hear the monitor being put on. According to the monitor, Willie's heart rate was up and down but not of what it should be. One of the nurses took control by pressing some sort of pump that gives oxygen into his airways of Willie's. One of the doctors took charge by doing chest compressions. A switch was being put on to load up the amount of electric shock Willie might need.

A doctor put two sticky pads on Willie's chest. The other doctor was warming up the pedals so that it is ready to shock Willie. The amount of joules was rising from the machine. The doctor placed the pedals on the sticky pads. As soon as it was placed properly, he alerted the others. "Stand clear!" He pressed the pedals and it shocked Willie. But its first attempt was unsuccessful to change Willie's heart rate.

Raymond, meanwhile, started to imagine something that was on his hands. He was starting to believe that Willie's end was near, his hands were still making fists as he slowly moved his fingers back. He can just see blood from his hand as it was starting to trickle.

The second attempt to shock Willie was again bad news. "Setting off adrift, give me an injection for him," ordered a doctor. A nurse opened up a packet that has an injection to put into Willie's body.

Raymond can imagine blood spilling out of his own hands and it landed on his bed covers. His face was already trembling, believing he was responsible for the way that Willie had ended up with. The other patients had nothing else to do but to wait and watch.

"One last try," ordered the doctor in charge of the pedals. "Stand clear, everyone."

Unfortunately, his last try was his last time. The attempts were unsuccessful and there was nothing more that the doctors and nurses can do.

"That's it, everyone," said the doctor, grimly and placed down the pedals to one side and the monitor was turned off. Silence covered the whole ward.

"I declare Willie Mogamba, dead on Friday, 18th October, 1996. Time at two hours, fifty-one minutes, this afternoon," the nurse said with her voice recorder switched on.

All the patients felt sad for poor Willie. "Poor Willie," said Mr Fall, sadly.

For Raymond, he was stunned, shocked and silently upset. He remained still for the rest of the afternoon.

**END OF CHAPTER EIGHT**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That was the second last chapter of this story. The final chapter is coming up and it will give a brief glimpse into Raymond's time when he was young. I hope I didn't mean to upset anyone and I never will.


	9. Chapter 9

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the last chapter of this story. It's going to be short but like the second last chapter, it is also going to be sad. This was just a couple of hours after the death of Willie Mogamba in hospital. At the end of this story, we get a brief glimpse of Raymond when he was young.

DISCLAIMER: For the last time, in this story, I do not own the rights to the Raccoons nor any of the characters from the show. Boy, I just can't stand this any more!

**Chapter 9: Drops of Paint**

Willie's body was taken away for funeral arrangements for the family and friends who are now bereaved for losing this man, originally from some country in Africa. He will, of course, not to be forgotten, particularly for Raymond. He didn't mean to have fun on Willie and after all, he is not a racist anyway.

The Staff Nurse and three other nurses were tidying up and placing new covers for a new patient to rest on his own bed. Then, the Staff Nurse noticed the sweets that Willie had dropped at the time of his death. However, she thought the sweets were from Raymond.

"Oh, you are untidy, aren't you?" she said, crossly, to him.

"I beg your pardon?" hesitated Raymond, quietly.

"Dropping your own sweets all over the place," she replied and placed the sweets on Raymond's bedside table.

"Ah, well they're not from..." Raymond tried to explain but believed he hadn't got the courage to mention about Willie.

"Try and be more careful, eh?"

"Yes, nurse," sighed Raymond.

One of the young nurses spoke to Raymond. It was the nurse who spoke to Raymond just a couple of days ago about how long he will stay.

"Would you like me to unwrap one for you?"

"I wouldn't mind if I write on my pad and pen for the time being, would you please?" said Raymond.

"I don't think you should."

"Well, why not? It could pass a bit of time."

"It might your fingers, you know. After all, your fingers are a little bit numb."

"And worse still, your bones need to be recovered first, particularly with your arms," added the Staff Nurse.

"Maybe you're right, nurse," said Raymond in disappointment. "Writing can hurt the fingers and thumb on my right hand."

"Have you taken your medication yet?"

"I haven't really, no."

"Well, you should have because if you didn't take your medicine today then you're only going to feel more ill than you are now."

"Trying to worry about me? Jesus Christ on a bike!"

"I would like to hear no more of your language, you're given this hospital a bad name."

"Really? Victoria is a beautiful name, you know."

"Don't worry, Staff. I'll do that now for Mr McBride," said the young nurse. The young nurse then walked over to Raymond's bedside table and began to shake the bottle before Raymond can have his medicine.

"I'm sure this will make you feel a lot better, would it?" she asked.

"Yeah, funny how it taste though," said Raymond.

"Well, we never use sugar to our medicines or otherwise it will give our patients sweet teeth, would you agree?"

"Mmm-hmm."

The young nurse opened up the bottle and pour out a drop of the medicine on a little plastic teaspoon. She asked him kindly to have his mouth opened so that he can take the medicine.

After Raymond had taken his medication, he soon began to sniff and his eyes were starting to feel watery.

"What's the matter?" asked the young nurse.

"Nothing," said Raymond, sadly.

"Are you sad about Willie?"

"It's not because of Willie...it's because...it's my life. Willie had to end his life so suddenly and maybe mine is too."

"Don't say that. Your life won't end, it's only the beginning."

Then, Raymond can hear a voice singing in his mind, it was singing a song that he knew of when he was a sensible teen. The song was about how Northern Ireland has suffered through the so-called 'Troubles' even before Raymond when was born. With the voice singing inside his mind, the young nurse decided she had better get back to work and help other patients who need medication as well.

As for Raymond, he just felt like crying. "My life seems to be more worse...than it is to any other...person that I..." Raymond couldn't speak any more and continued to cry.

Raymond can also remember himself as a child praying to God in his bedroom. His bedroom has a few videos, cuddly toys, a teddy bear, for instance and children's books such as Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

Young Raymond, aged eleven, spend a little time praying in his bedroom and finished by saying. "In the Name of the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit."

He said to himself. "I'll find out. I'll find out some things. I'll find out what happens next to my life and I'll even find out what happens next to my family. I'll find out and I will find out."

**THE END**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, that's it. That's my first story completed. Of course, this is only the beginning and I'll be back writing more stories not just about Raymond's time in hospital, his life when he was a child, his detective story but so too goes to the characters of the Raccoons as the story that involves Cedric, Sophia and Broo too will also continue. For now, I hope you have enjoyed this story until then...I'll be back!


End file.
